Saturday, August 13, 2011

My Brush with Al-Qaeda - Part II

"AL HAZEEF, A-L-H-A-Z-E-E-F, come on you have my passport why don't you just read it, I need to check in and go about my business"

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience sir, with passports in Arabic we always confirm the English translation." the pretty hotel receptionist Njeri looked up from her computer at the middle-eastern man impatiently tapping away at her desk. She hated this type: young, filthy rich with petrol dollars and ready to throw insults if things weren't done their way. Njeri started to sigh but caught herself midway - that would only aggravate the situation. She was glad that her shift was almost over, Mike would be at home by now and she couldn't wait to curl up in his arms and tell her about her morning.

A small light flashed on Njeri's computer bringing her back to reality. She had only been told about this situation in her training but never experienced it. Her heart faltered a bit, the color was amber which meant there was a significant threat level. Protocol demanded that she inform her manager immediately.

With a slight tremor in her voice she spoke to Hazeef "Sir, kindly give me a moment as I confirm your check in with our manager" she spoke the words that she had been trained to say.

"Is there a problem?" Hazeef asked, as a multi-lingual speaker he was very attune to vocal tonality and he could instantly tell that hers had changed.

"No, sir. Please give me a moment." Njeri almost stumbled as she turned abruptly to walk to her manager's office. "Damn it!" Njeri cursed under her breadth. The renovations they'd been doing meant that the intercom she could have used to call her manager was still out of order. Three more steps and she was at the manager's office and she barged in even though she could tell through the glass wall that he was with a visitor.

Hazeef watched the girl almost trip, half-running, half-walking into the back office. He could see her gesticulating as she entered the office, her agitation visible from where he was.

After two minutes Njeri and her manager came out of the office but Hazeef was no longer in the lobby.

"Ametoroka?" the supervisor asked no one in particular as he walked out of the hotel to see whether he might see him. The valet outside just shrugged his shoulders as he noticed his boss' menacing scowl.

"Okay Njeri, you need to file a report immediately. Also call the Israeli embassy and speak to Mr. Amit Benayum. He should be here in a few minutes to take questions. Damn it! These are just problems." the manager plodded back to his office reserving his choicer curses for the privacy of his office.

Njeri grudgingly trudged back to her desk. She didn't care about Hazeef, Benayum or reports. She was just upset though that she would not be going home soon and seeing Mike.